A Brief Encounter
by Black Orkid
Summary: Twilight related scenario - Edward and Bella's first encounter. Similarly written the way Bella describes Edward in the first book. The only difference is it's on a train, and his eyes aren't golden, they're blue.


No one, not even I can begin to fully describe his overwhelming beauty: the crisp, defined jaw-line, shaping his face, or the way his soft smooth upper lip gently sat upon his moistened bottom lip, and how I'd imagine that they were capable of a thousand tender kisses.  
All I could do was study and admire his long warm fingers as they inched across the delicate pages of his book, tracing and caressing each line with their tips. I couldn't imagine as to why his gaze was so intense, he was concentrating so deeply on the dotted ink printed onto the milky white paper that he held, softly in his hand.

In a flash I was distracted as a homely scent of coffee filled the carriage; it's rich aroma instantly relaxed my body and I felt a wave of comfort wash over me.

Before long, there was an instant darkness as the carriage rattled its way through the tunnel. He became invisible.  
All I could see was the vague, red light reflecting from the digital clock above the automatic door, glowing boldly with the numbers 13:57.  
My ears widened as the sound of whispers and coughs travelled down the carriage. After at least three minutes of darkness, a burst of warm light re-filled the carriage, and he was once again in my sight.  
The book was no longer in his right hand; it was placed on the open food shelf in front of him.

Dazed in his own world, he peered out at the vast acres of vegetation beyond the window; small rays of sunlight hit the surface of his skin and eyes.  
My stomach tightened and my knees weakened as he revealed to me with a single glare, piercing, cold eyes. He looked right through me, and instead towards the warden who was emerging from the carriage doors.  
Praying that he'd notice me I slipped to the seat in front as he rustled through his coat and jacket pockets for his ticket. Closer now, I admired the dusty charcoal outline – like watercolour, running, blending around the pale, crystal blue interior of such incredible eyes. I hunted for his flaws, my eyes wondering his body from head to toe. I was not successful.

Each dark, chocolate-brown lock of hair, hung wistfully around his fair, glowing skin. I could feel my heart smouldering, and my body melting in my seat at his every movement. I wish that I could have stayed there forever and watched him, but eventually after several minutes, the train came to a stop. Elegantly he rose and his body urged towards mine, towering over me as he passed my seat. I held my head low and stayed silent, and tried to ignore him by looking at the back of the seat in front. I then gradually gathered my umbrella and handbag, stood up, ready to make my way off the train, but lost sight of him.

My heart sunk to my stomach, and I swiftly shuffled through the exit doors, onto the platform. I wondered where he had gone, searching frantically, meeting the eyes of strangers on the cold metal benches stationed on platform 3. I then felt a brush of skin across my bear shoulder, and paused. Facing him, a wave of nerves paralysed me. Rain flowed down my forehead and down my bare arms, but I didn't feel the cold: Instead, like a rabbit caught in headlights, I stood still.

Butterflies burst into motion inside of me as a voice so beautiful soothed my ears. He drowned out the unfamiliar voices, and penetrated the silence. The once bickering noise of people was no more, and their slow, waltzing figures were blurred into the distance.

He spoke the words 'Excuse me, I'm sorry, my book; could I share your umbrella?'.

I noticed he had no bag to keep it in. I undid the ribbon, and the umbrella flowered into the air. I forced a reply.

'Yes, of course, why not..', I felt stupid to have been standing there all that time, getting drenched in the rainfall, with the umbrella in my hand. But he light-heartedly smiled and joined me underneath the red polka-dotted tent, and spoke again, this time even more pleasant to the ears; 'You must be freezing, you're soaked through to the skin, here take this, it'll keep you warm'.

He placed the warm material in the shape of a jacket over my bare shoulders. I smiled and felt much warmer as we drifted together through the rain.

The air was fresh and vibrant, and the city colourful and vivid as we attempted to cross the busy road. The metal shapes almost looked as if they were being pushed by the wind, as they swiftly passed. The autumn breeze caressed my face and stirred the locks of hair that lay untamed upon his brow. The shadow of the umbrella above made his eyes glow brighter than before. He strode across the street pushing me gently in front of him, still clutching the umbrella in his hand.


End file.
